Isn't That Just Precious?
by TheAwkwardSmilesofRoppongi
Summary: It was like he wasn't even human. And if he wasn't human, Izaya didn't have to love him.
1. Chapter 1

"Why, isn't that just precious?"  
Izaya Orihara, currently crouched down next to his fallen enemy, gave a small laugh and prodded the body with the tip of his blade.  
"I for one am shocked that you so easily could be put in this state."  
Cocking his head, Izaya let a confused expression take over his face.  
No. That was a lie. It's been extremely difficult to get this guy in even this state. Half dead. Izaya had suffered severe injuries, meaning that the condition of his left arm wasn't so great. He had a few broken ribs. A result from being thrown into multiple buildings, and he could barely see through his right eye, which was swelling shut. Not to mention the dozens of wounds that littered his exposed and unexposed skin.  
Shizuo looked as though he barely suffered at all. Sure, he had a few bumps and scratches, and maybe Izaya had managed to stab and drag his flick blade through flesh, but this damn blonde would just get up and throw another machine. That had been why Izaya purposefully got a blow in on his head, to see if that was a way to momentarily stun him.  
It had worked.  
But better then he had expected. And wanted.  
But it was obvious he was still alive.  
It was like he wasn't even human.  
And if he wasn't human, Izaya didn't have to love him.  
That brought a smile to his horrendous looking face.  
He was particularly giddy that he'd done this. Got that damn guy on his back, laying there, almost as lifeless as a mannequin.  
Just at that moment, however, Shizuo twitched, and Izaya stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back and looking down at the man.  
"Up already?" He said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.  
Shizuo grunted and sat up, rubbing at his face. A few mumbled words later, he was up on his feet, though he looked as if he was swaying.  
He groaned and put his hand on his head. "Dammit.."  
Izaya just smiled his usual smile, and leaned forward a bit. "Ah.. Looks like you'll live. Pity. I was already planning on.. Playing with you for a while."  
The blonde let his hand drop and let that familiar look of death come on his face.  
He wanted to kill.  
And Izaya loved it.  
"You better hope I don't catch you, fucking flea." Shizuo snarled, stepping forward.  
"Ooo. How terrifying." Izaya smiled one more time, before his expression morphed into a serious one, and he lifted his arms, pointing his blade forward. "I've always known that hope was for the weak."  
And at that, both men fell into action. Shizuo had charged forward, reminding the ravenette of a running bull, crazed on the color of red. He made it all of seven steps before Izaya had whipped around and threw himself forward and out of reach.  
It was instantly a chase, which it usually was.  
Izaya was flying forward, with Shizuo not very far far off, and gaining fast.  
He felt himself tiring, but he didn't dare slow down. Instead, he threw his head left to right, looking for an available exit. When he found none, he bolted up a nearby staircase and slammed through a door. He didn't stop, not until he found himself about to plunge down into black nothingness.  
Shit.  
Izaya whirled, knowing it was too late to turn back. Shizuo had already walked through the door.  
They both paused.  
Izaya drew in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling faster then he'd have liked it to. But at this moment, he really didn't care. Instead, he fixed his crimson red eyes on dead-fish ones.  
Shizuo looked at him with such hatred and angry, Izaya felt like he was being wounded. The blonde curled his hands into fists, and the informant saw blood start to ooze from in-between his fingers.  
"You," Started the blonde, and he stepped closer, causing Izaya to step back. "You piece of shit. Always showing your flea face where it shouldn't be." Another step. "Damn piece of shit." And another. "I should rip you to pieces."  
Izaya only smiled, and backed up until he was one step from falling into nothing.  
To his death.  
"Oh but Shizu-chan.. Wouldn't you miss me?"  
The blonde snarled then, and continued to get closer, until the two enemies were face to face, eye to eye.  
"No." Was all he said, and put his arms out like he was going to knock the informant forward.  
But Izaya wouldn't allow himself to be pushed. No way. He'd rather take his own life.  
So he let himself fall back, that same Cheshire smile on his face.  
He didn't say a word.  
He just closed his eyes, and let the darkness swallow him whole.

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

**Well, It isn't just going to end this way.. **


	2. Chapter 2

Izaya felt like he was flying.  
The wind resisted against his body,  
It pushed, trying desperately to heave him back up, away from the fast approaching cement ground.  
But air could only do so much.  
He squeezed his eyes together harder, hating the cold hand of fear that squeezed his insides.  
The wind had long since been knocked from his lungs, and he tore through the air, gasping, but to no avail.  
He was really going to die.  
This was it.  
There was no going back.  
He would smash into the ground and die on impact.  
At least it would be painless.  
Was Shizuo seeing this? Seeing his enemy so freely take his own life? He hoped he wasn't. Oh, how he hoped..  
But hadn't he said hope was for the weak? Did that make him weak? Maybe. Now that he knew his demise was so close, he could admit to himself that he was weak. Hopeful.  
Human.  
As human as anyone. He wasn't anything special, and that made his heart ache. For so long, he got by on the thought that he was better than, more than, greater than, but not equal to. He'd really believed he was something.  
But he was nothing.  
Izaya opened his eyes then, searching for that tall figure, those hateful eyes, and that shaggy blonde hair.  
It took him a moment before his eyes finally caught what they wanted, and he smiled. He knew the exact moment Shizuo saw. He saw the exact moment his anger completely drained from his body. He saw the strange look in his eyes.  
He saw the exact moment he jumped from the roof.  
But only for a moment, because soon after, he hit the ground, hearing only the horrible scream that ripped itself from his throat.

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

**I know it's short, but ;^;**


	3. Chapter 3

Izaya opened his eyes, though it was painful and made him feel nauseous beyond belief. As he blinked, something hard and minuscule fell into his eyes, and he reached up to impatiently brush it away.  
When he drew his hand back, a flash of red made his eyes widen.  
Dry blood.  
His stomach churned with a horrible burning sensation, and he gagged on air. When he started to sit up, he began dry heaving until he tasted blood on his tongue, and let out a groan.  
Izaya pushed himself up until that bitter feeling came back and threatened to make him heave again. After a few moments of pain, he leaned forward and gingerly held his stomach.  
Why was he in so much pain? Why had he bled, and how long had it been since he'd been wounded? Was it a head wound? Was it caused by a human, or had a vehicle, or machine?  
…Machine?  
Almost as if pulled by some kind of marionette's string, the informant bolted up onto his feet, a flash of the ground rushing up toward him making his heart race and-  
Let out a loud yelp.  
"Fuck.." He cursed himself, plopping right back down on the bed.  
It was then that he realized that he wasn't outside, falling through the air, or anywhere near cement. He was.. In a room?  
And an unfamiliar one at that.  
Izaya's hands began to shake, and he gripped a handful of the graying white comforter in each hand.  
His eyes looked toward an open door, and he had to fight the urge to get up and run.  
He would most likely not even make it to the door.  
When he could breathe again, the raven haired men sagged down onto the bed, ignoring the dull throb in his stomach, and sprawled his arms out, wincing when his wrist moved in a jerky.  
Izaya gingerly moved it around in a circle, hissing quietly when it bent to far, and at an odd angle.  
He should get out of here. Get out before whoever brought him here came back and saw he was awake.  
Slowly, he picked himself up and, on a whim, glanced to his right. A tall, narrow mirror stood five feet tall, reflecting his appearance. Izaya didn't like what he saw.  
His head was stained. Red trailed from a large cut on his temple, stretching down over his eyes, past his neck and ending somewhere hidden by his clothing. When he lifted his shirt, the dried blood wove out in patterns that looked almost intentionally. It stopped near his waist. Seemingly satisfied with this, he started to lower his shirt, but when he moved, his back gave a resisting cry, and he moaned when he turned.  
A deep gash on his side told him he may have indeed been hit by a car, or a bus. Or a vending machine. It shed debris, including pebbles, dirt, blood.  
It hurt to move, but he bit back his uncomfortableness, and let his plain black shirt drop back in place.  
Letting his eyes travel further down, he saw his pants stained with that same blood, and only stared at his reflection his wonderment.  
Was all this blood his? If so, he'd be feeling a lot more dizzy and nauseous then he was now. So was it someone else's? His mysterious savior?  
His thoughts were interrupted when a loud bang came from somewhere further then this room, and Izaya fell himself jump. When voices reached his ears, curiosity trumped the anxiety that was slowly building up in the pit of his stomach. He inched forward, afraid of making any noises or stepping on a loose board and alerting whomever was in the house. If that was where he was.  
Izaya peaked his head around the door frame, and let his eyes roam for a second. When they fell on two figures, his gut screamed at him to back up, so he did.  
"..hurt, so I brought him here."  
A mans voice spoke through his fear as he leaned back against the wall closest to the door.  
"I see that. But I never thought you'd have done anything to help him."  
A different voice, also male.  
"I.. Couldn't just leave him there."  
So the two men were discussing him? And one was the man who helped him?  
A pause followed those words, but Izaya's thoughts never stopped.  
Maybe he could find a way out, instead of sticking around to speak to these men. Avoiding an awkward conversation was something Izaya had always done unless, of course, it was one he had conjured up and had complete control of.  
Or maybe he should stay. The two didn't sound like they had any plans to hurt him, but then again, he had no way of knowing for sure. They could both be murders and..  
He was in no position to fight.  
He'd be killed for sure.  
Or was he already dead, just in some parody of a house in Hell?  
Nah.  
He was sure the Devil himself would kick him out, rather then deal with him.  
And also, God's couldn't be forced into Hell, correct?  
"You're up. How the hell is that possible?"  
Izaya jumped again, and pushed himself off the wall, losing his balance and tripping over his two left feet. His eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the impact of slamming into the ground.  
When it didn't come, he opened both eyes, and gasped when their vision was filled with a face.  
A familiar face.  
With dead-fish eyes.  
And shaggy blonde hair.  
"Ah.. Look at you. Falling yet again." A sigh of disbelief. "Fucking flea.."  
And..  
What? Falling?  
"You.." Izaya breathed. "You.. You.. What.."  
His shock and horror showed on his face, he saw this in the reflection of the eyes he had grown to hate, and suddenly realized how close he was to that dreadful face. How close he was to this man. How close he arms were. How warm his hands were on his back. How not feral his smile was. How..  
"How.. I.. " _Am at a loss for words,_ he thought.  
"Me."  
The man smiled wider then, and Izaya felt this pang thrum through his body, and his face grew darker then the blood that stained it.  
"Are you alright..?" Said Shizuo Heiwajima.


	4. Chapter 4

The disbelief that flashed on his face didn't go unnoticed.  
"What?" Shizuo's voice took on a worried edge, and Izaya almost smiled. Almost. He was still way to concerned with the idea of his enemy being worried about him. Or appearing to be. The look on his face showed uneasiness, and he could tell they were both uncomfortable with the position, but neither moved.  
For a long moment, they simply looked at each other. Izaya, looking with worry at the blonde who he assumed was going to rip his head off at ant minute, and Shizuo, appearing as indifferent, but he could read the words that were flashing in his eyes. And a part of Izaya was truly flattered. The other annoyed.  
"You can let me go now."  
Amused at the red that stained the blonde's cheeks, the raven haired man smiled. "Now isn't that cute.." He cooed as he was set up straight on his feet. The blush had darkened, and Izaya just shook his head, enjoying what was playing out in front of him.  
Shizuo took a step back when he saw the smile, and a confused expression took over his face. "So.. You're okay, right?"  
Nodding to this, Izaya looked down and examined his wrist. "I'm great. Just a hurt wrist, a head wound." He gestured toward the cut above his eye. ", and that monstrosity on my back."  
When he bothered to look up, wondering about the silence that had so suddenly overcome the room, he blanched at the look on the others face.  
"On your back?" Came a quiet voice, and he blinked.  
"Yes.. But.. It's fine." Insisting this, he patted his side and feigned unhurt. But it stinged and he couldn't keep the grimace from his face and the hiss of pain that came from his mouth.  
In the next moment, Izaya was being tossed on the bed, and he startled, pushing himself up on his elbows when he landed face first in the whitish blanket.  
"Well hell, what was that for-" He cut himself off and looked at the blondes face again. It had gone from shock to.. Anger.  
"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!" Shizuo shouted, smacking his back hard so he fell back into the blanket. Pain made him howl in frustration, and he prepared himself to get up and kick the bloody hell out of someone. Only he was forced back down. When his shirt was tore off of his back, Izaya's eyes were widening, and e felt hands smooth over his tender red skin.  
"It hurts.." He complained after he'd gotten over his shock and embarrassment.  
Shizuo was still looking at his back, and a few muffled responses came after a moment.  
"It probably happened after you hit the ground.. A rock must've dug into you back on impact."  
He blinked at this, and that flash of the ground rushing up toward him ran through his mind, making him jerk suddenly, and the other cursed.  
"Fuck.. Can you sit up?"  
Izaya sat up, more confused then angry, and threw an irritable glance at the worried person that stood before him. "Yes, I can. I was just standing a few minutes ago before you so kindly threw me on he bed. Thank you for that." When his shirt was offered to him, he snatched it and started to wrestle it over his head. Succeeding in this, he huffed and started to struggle to get his hurt wrist in, but he was stopped.  
"Maybe.. You should shower. Or something. Clean that." Shizuo didn't wait for an answer, instead he nudged open a different door and tossed a few clothes items at him. "And where that. Blood soaked clothes are all that comfortable."  
"Actually, I've grown used to the feeling." Izaya only smiled when the other winced, and stood. "And the shower is..?"  
"Down the hall, to the left. First door on the right."  
Without another word, he walked out of the door, hearing a "Stupid stupid stupid.." from the room, and he smiled to himself, following the directions that would lead him to the restroom. Once he passed the room he'd seen the two people- Shizuo and an unknown person- he paused, glancing around before shrugging and disappearing into his destination.  
Once inside, however, he shut the door then sagged down, pulling his knees to his chest and gripping at his hair. He could ignore the pain from his head and wrist, but the throb in his back was constant and throbbing. Sweat broke out all over his body and he groaned when he pushed himself up to his feet.  
Stumbling toward the sink, he flicked the water on and gripped the sides on the counter, ducking his head down and breathing heavily.  
Not only was it painful, but he felt his heart beat speed up when he felt a burning memory. Hands.. Warm hands.  
Shaking his head and feeling like a love sick little girl, Izaya slowly released his death grip on the marbled surface, and cupped cold water in his palms. Throwing it over his face, he sighed at the cooling affect it had and shut the water off, pulling free his clothes in favor of the water.  
Climbing gingerly into the tub, he jerked the water on hot, hissing when it came in contact with his back.  
His mind raced as he placed his hands against the wall, clawing his hands down painfully.  
Hadn't the two of them been enemies? Were they still enemies? Or former?  
And why were they acting so friendly? Did.. Something happen, which made Shizuo's desire to kill him turn into just plain desire? Or was he faking?  
Izaya suddenly felt very very angry.  
How dare he play this game with me? That was what Izaya did, and what he always would do.  
Fuming, he turned his face up to the searing water.  
How dare he.  
During this, he hadn't heard the gentle knock on the door, or the lock click as the door opened.  
"Izaya.. You dropped.. "  
When he turned his face to look at who had come in, he saw wide eyes, but they weren't very.. Angry. They were just.. Startled. Confused and..  
Staring at his body with such a lust filled gaze, Izaya felt himself blush.  
Suddenly he didn't want the space between them to be so big.  
"You.. Are fucking sexy."  
At that, the distance between the two was closed, and Izaya was backed up against the wall and staring into those eyes he had hated so much, somehow kissing the man he had hated for so long.


End file.
